April was awful, let me just start by saying that. It was filled with the memories of all the things we didn't do right, conversations of guilt, and fights with my husband that have escalated like none of our others.
All the growing and healing and self care I had done was just gone. We had so many hard things to get through: the memories of the days leading up to his death, anniversary of us finding him not breathing, the anniversary of his burial, and remembering how all of it felt when it was actually happening. But worse was trying to process our grief and our progress, realizing that we are happy despite this terrible tragedy and feeling like we were the people who had forgotten and moved on.
It's hard to be okay with the idea that we could be happy without him. There is an incredible amount of guilt knowing that we have, in some small ways, moved on. We were so wrapped up in how awful everything felt that we forgot to be partners, forgot to be good parents, and forgot about all the promises we made to ourselves about caring for one another.
For this past month, it hasnt been about progress- it's just been about making it through alive. It's just been one hellish day after another with that same feeling as last year, "When and how can I just get out of this?"
And then today this tulip bloomed, on the cracked earth above where he will forever lie, and my heart warmed to the idea of happiness once again.